


Of Opportunities and Insanity

by DoctorFawksy



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Dubious Consent, Flying by the seat of my pants, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, Not Steve Friendly, Not Wanda Friendly, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Steve is an Asshole, Stockholm Syndrome, Team Cap Critical, The Punching of Steve Rogers, Unhealthy Relationships, also, also i just noticed how my tags are not ordered the way i intended them to be, also i suck at tagging so there's that, and the rest of the Avengers fucked up by following him, currently on hiatus, definitely not for steve fans or people who thought that steve was in the right, dubious consent due to stockholm syndrome, first fic so beware of that lmao, haven't seen that one yet, he'll probably also get kicked in the dick/balls region just because i am the saltiest bitch, i'm kinda flying by the seat of my pants here, not yet but it will happen, probably not compliant with the new guardians movie, really just not compliant with a lot of things tbh, so i guess have fun disecting my verbal vomiting in the tags field, steve gets punched in the face, what a great phrase, why am i writing this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-01-23 23:32:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12519100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorFawksy/pseuds/DoctorFawksy
Summary: Tony was left in a Siberian bunker after being betrayed and screwed over by a man he thought he could trust. He was sure that he was going to die there, from the cold if not the blood loss from having a vibranium shield embedded into his already-weakened chest. Nebula, scouting Earth in early preparation for Thanos' eventual invasion, had other ideas.I've seen fics where HYDRA nabs Tony from Siberia, and those plus Ewim's IronTitan fanart on tumblr spawned this hellchild. Yeet.Also don't talk to me about the title i have no idea what i'm doing :T





	1. Of Tests and Solutions AKA A Prologue of Dubious Quality

**Author's Note:**

> Yo, this is my first time writing a fic since I was twelve...Ten years ago. And those fics were shitty. So who knows how this'll turn out. That being said, I owe this bout of madness mostly to [Ewim](http://pwnyta.tumblr.com/), who has drawn some hella rad IronTitan fanart. Thanks for that, asshole.
> 
> Other credit is to my comp class, which I can't seem to do anything for if I don't write random BS first. Fuck u too, comp.
> 
> *ahem* Fair warning, I'm still deciding between endgame IronTitan AKA not a conventional happy ending or endgame StarkQuill AKA a way more conventional happy ending. Feel free to try to sway me one way or another, but ultimately it's probably just gonna be decided on a whim. As I do.
> 
> Other than that, I don't got much to say here. Ye. For those curious about the art that inspired this hellchild of a fic, you can find it [here](http://pwnyta.tumblr.com/post/156254464529/3b-with-thanostony), [here](http://pwnyta.tumblr.com/post/152902435564/i-cant-believe-im-saying-this-pls-draw-some), [here](http://pwnyta.tumblr.com/post/152904810494/jumping-on-the-trash-brigade-can-we-get-more), [and amidst other amazing examples of their work here](http://pwnyta.tumblr.com/post/157611245614/ya-know-how-i-only-post-sketchy-bullshit-fanart). It's been ages since I fucked around with html shit, so let's hope I actually got the linking right there. :/
> 
> Without further ado, enjoy. Or don't. W/e.
> 
> Oh. Also. This ain't beta'd. Hell, I haven't even really bothered going over it myself. So there's that. Feel free to leave any sort of comments whatsoever, and I'll try to respond to any/all of them if I get any. Yeh.
> 
> Cheers, bitches.

The near silent hiss of snow falling, interspersed with hitched and raggedly uneven breaths, reined over the frigid Siberian bunker. Occasionally a moan from distressed and damaged metal voiced itself, but those sounds were far and few between. Visually, it was evident that some sort of great battle had taken place, indents in the walls and craters in the floors made that much clear, but it was just as obvious that the battle had ended at least a few hours prior. Even more obvious was that the man in the battered red and gold armor was definitively not the victor in said scuffle. The rough inhales and exhales fighting from his body were proof enough, even without the support of the blood pooling slowly below him and his failure to move at all. Still, it was impressive that he had the tenacity to keep breathing. The damage to his chest was not insignificant, and many a man had died from less.

Nebula, however, knew better than to assume that the man could pose no threat. She was very much aware of just how potent the armored man could be. It was no small feat, after all, to take out the Chitauri legion that her adoptive father had lent to Loki. The cyborg woman was also aware of the fact that her father had sent her here as a test to determine whether what little trust he had left for her was founded. Despite this knowledge, Nebula could only guess as to what the actual test was. It pertained to the armored man who had felled the Chitauri army, no doubt, but beyond that she was unsure. Perhaps the Mad Titan wanted her to finish off the armored man, but she thought it more likely that Thanos had greater plans than that. He often did, after all. While taking out the destroyer of the Chitauri seemed the most obvious answer, the thought crossed her mind that perhaps, just maybe, the Titan expected her to bring the man to him. Thanos was, after all, very much a master when it came to obtaining the loyalty of those who would oppose them, with Nebula herself being an example. Though she had turned on her father once, he had gifted her a second chance, and that chance was surely not given lightly.

There was also the fact that the armored man's comrades had clearly turned on him. The crack and dents on the armored suit clearly matched the shield lying not far from the mangled pile of barely-alive human and metal, and Nebula recognized the shield as belonging to the leader of the fallen man's team. There might be merit, she thought, in stealing the broken man from this world, bringing him to Thanos and enabling her father to convince the man that he ought to fight alongside the Titan. A task surely made easier given the recent betrayal the man had faced. Nebula narrowed her eyes, scanning the surroundings for potential threats before slowly stalking towards the mangled armor. She was wary, but from both her reconnaissance and the events she had watched unfold it was unlikely there would be any sort of interference in her scheme.

A hiss of almost-sympathy escaped her as she drew close enough to see just how battered the man in the armor was. His helmet was off, which she had figured given that she could hear his troubled breathing unhindered by a metal filter. She had not expected the amount of damage to his face, though. Bruises and gashes, from her limited knowledge of Terran biology she would be willing to bet that he would not be able to open his eyes with the amount of swelling. And now that she was so near, she could hear more clearly just how troubled his breathing was. It would be easy, Nebula figured, to just leave the man for dead. But she had already made up her mind to bring the man to her father, and that decision was hardly going to be shunted aside for the easier answer of leaving him to die.

Nebula reached a hand out cautiously to nudge the armor, watching for any signs of consciousness, but there was no reaction whatsoever. On the one hand, this made her task of abducting the man easier, but a part of her wanted answers. This man had been a part of a team, a "family" much like her sister's Guardians. Would the Guardians just as easily turn on Gamora, as this man's "team" had turned on him? Nebula did not much care for her sister, Thanos' favorite despite her obvious betrayal even before Nebula herself had tried to forsake him, but a part of her was disgusted with the idea of the people Gamora put her trust in betraying her in such a cruel way. Why the other Daughter of Thanos was willing to trust a group of individuals who would, if the evidence before Nebula now meant anything, ultimately betray her in ways more painful than torture was beyond the cyborg. Not her issue to worry about, though. Certainly not given her current burden of figuring out how to transport the armored man.

Nebula grimaced, looking down at the man once more mostly disdainfully but with some small amount of pity as well. Clearly, despite the man's prowess on the battlefield(which she supposed could also be debatable given the fact that he could not fell the two who assaulted him) he was a fool to place his trust so readily. Whether or not this would aid or impede the conditioning of his loyalty to Thanos remained to be seen, especially given how unpredictable Terrans had a tendency to be.

Regardless, Nebula would return to her father with the individual responsible for the destruction of a faction of his army as a gift, a sign of her penitence. Thanos was unpredictable to her at best, but Nebula felt sure that this was the right course of action to regain at least a fraction of her father's trust. She knelt, working an arm under the man so as to toss his body over her shoulder. No doubt her father would have someone at hand to heal the man's wounds, all Nebula had to do was deliver him. And deliver him she would.


	2. Of Terror and Vague Explanations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Wherever he was, though, didn't have the blinding whiteness that always came with hospitals. Nor did it have the oppressing smell of sterilizers and head-pounding cacophony of medical monitoring equipment he noted, his brain beginning to whir back to full life. Also, no hospital that Tony had ever been in had blue-skinned, futuristic cyborg women..."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't remember if I mentioned this before, but don't expect this to follow canon. Like, at all. I do what I want. Not to mention Marvel canon is questionable anyway so. Eh.
> 
> ALSO. I'm curious where people think this is going. And/or where they want this to go. In the end, I'll write whatever plotline I end up liking best out of the three I've got outlined, but. I'm still curious.
> 
> In other news I forgot my birthday this year, and all the social obligations that go along with it blindsided me. So much for updating on Thursday as I had intended. :T
> 
> Still not beta'd or even particularly edited, so feel free to shout at me if I fucked anything up.
> 
> That's all I got for ya. Enjoy, or whatever. Yeet.

Even before his consciousness fully returned, Tony knew that something was wrong. While he may not have a medical doctorate, the genius had enough general knowledge about biology and was damn well good enough at crunching numbers to know that, between the further reduced function of his lungs and heart and the blood loss, he wouldn't survive until Vision would be able to reach him. The fact that his consciousness was actually actively returning meant one of three things, of that he was (relatively) sure. Either Rogers -he flinched just to think the name- had suddenly decided that Tony wasn't the enemy (not likely), Tony was dead and awakening as a ghost (slightly more likely and actually probably the best option of the three), or there was an unknown force willing to intervene to save Tony's life (which was somehow less terrifyingpainfulstinging than the first option, but significantly less comforting than the thought of being dead because people only ever kept Tony around when they needed something).

The pain that washed over him with his awakening awareness unfortunately ruled out the death theory. Despite his every instinct telling him not to move, not to make any indication that he was anything but unconscious, Tony's curiosity outweighed common sense and he peeled his eyes open, hissing softly at the sudden influx of light. The dull throb in his head sharpened, but muted quickly enough thanks to the low lighting of...Wherever he was. That was the first thing he noted after his eyes adjusted, he was clearly not in any sort of hospital that he was familiar with. And Tony was depressingly familiar with a variety of hospitals. Wherever he was, though, didn't have the blinding whiteness that always came with hospitals. Nor did it have the oppressing smell of sterilizers and head-pounding cacophony of medical monitoring equipment he noted, his brain beginning to whir back to full life. Also, no hospital that Tony had ever been in had blue-skinned, futuristic cyborg women and suddenly Tony really wished he were unconscious again because clearly things were about to get even more complicated and everything hurt and didn't he deserve at least some rest? Apparently not, because the woman (were they a woman? They looked female, but then even on Earth that didn't necessarily mean anything and Tony was heart-poundingly sure that Earth was probably not where they were right now) was approaching with measured steps, a sort of detached interest on her face.

Given all the unknowns he was dealing with, Tony kept his mouth shut. Maybe before the latest catastrophe he would have spoken up, but given that his last memories before waking up fuck-knows-where were of his teammate attempting to murder him and then walking off with the man who successfully murdered his parents, Tony really wasn't much feeling like talking anymore. If his _friends_ were so eager to end him, he didn't want to take his chances with a complete stranger of ambiguous gender who may or may not be gearing up to torture him because said stranger definitely looked like the ready-to-torture type. Speaking of the stranger, they had come to a stop a foot or two out of his reach, one eyebrow raised in that bored way that he was accustomed to seeing on Natasha's face and _wow_ , he really didn't want to think about her any more than he wanted to think about any of the other people who had so clearly been using him. At least this...person? At least _they_ were more obvious about their disdain.

"Every bit of information to be found on Tony Stark says that you never shut up, no matter what situation you find yourself in. But I suppose the intell I gathered also claimed the 'Avengers' to be a family, and my understanding of the Terran term 'family' was that they would never leave you for dead, much less attempt to kill you themselves, so perhaps your planet's records-keeping is questionable anyway." They definitely had a female-sounding voice, Tony thought, before the words really sank in. It came as a surprise to him that he didn't have any words in the Avengers' defense to bite back, not to mention the flinch that he didn't quite manage to subdue. Said flinch was what made him realize that his arms and legs were cuffed and chained to the table-ish thing he was laying on. The chains had give, he noted distantly, but ultimately he would stand no chance of escaping if he angered who he assumed was his captor. He kept silent, still not meeting the alien(?)'s eyes. They huffed, and in one quick movement stepped closer and grabbed Tony by the hair, jerking his head up to meet their eyes. This time he didn't even try to hide the flinch, eyelids slamming shut as he braced himself slap or punch.

When a few moments passed without the impact of a hand against his face, Tony dared to slit his eyes open, warily meeting the gaze of his presumably-alien captor. Much to his surprise, rather than any sort of malice, their expression was more one of distaste, eyes narrowed as they took in his reaction. He met their eyes fully, then, still tensely expecting them to lash out. After a few minutes of intense eye contact, the cyborg scoffed and pushed him down so his head was lying on the table again. Gentle wasn't quite the word for the motion, but it wasn't harsh either. More surprising was the fact that the hand brushed through his hair before retreating to cross with the cyborg's other arm, a sort of speculative look adorning the maybe-alien's face.

"I am Nebula, daughter of the Titan Thanos. I found you nearly dead on your planet and brought you here to prevent your death." Well, definitely a she then, Tony supposed, given her title of "daughter" although if she expected him to know who the hell this "Titan Thanos" was then she was about to be disappointed. He almost gave voice to that thought, then her words clicked. "Your planet," she had said that twice now and shit, sometimes Tony hated when he was right. He tensed again, heart rate picking up slightly in preface to a panic attack, and _her_ eyebrow rose again, head tilting, and shit he really could not afford to lose it in front of this alien(!) chick, not when he didn't know what she wanted. He held his breath for a beat, eyes clenched shut, before letting the breath slowly, opening his eyes again to meet hers.

"Ah, alright, Nebula? Can I call you Nebula? Or do you prefer 'Nebula, daughter of the Titan Thanos' which by the way rings absolutely no bells. And thanks for saving my life or whatever but what do you want from me? Shit, where even are we?" Okay, maybe not composed as he would have liked, and she looked slightly irritated now and Tony just _knew_ he should have kept his mouth shut but he needed to know. Why the hell had she saved him? What the hell was going on? Was he the only one who had been brought here? It sounded like it, given she had emphasized that she had saved his life, but _why_? What could aliens possibly want that he could give them? A shudder ran down his spine, the Ten Rings running through his mind. God, he hoped that wasn't what this was about. He was done with weapons, completely done now that he knew what he did about his "team." Tony raised his eyes to hers once more, defiant but terrified, shaking ever so slightly.

"Perhaps I was not misinformed about your tendency to shoot your mouth off," Nebula sneered lightly, then her face dropped back into neutrality, "you may address me as Nebula, and I would hardly expect someone from a backwater" here she scrunched her nose, clearly disdainful, " _planet_ like yours to recognize my father's name. Although you did manage to destroy a faction of one of his weaker armies, which is more than I would have expected from a single Terran. My father sent me to gather information on the one who destroyed a Chitauri legion." That...did not sound good. The army she was talking about had to be the one from New York, and wasn't that just another panic attack in the making, so this had to be some sort of revenge thing, right? "When I found out that a lone Terran warrior was the one to destroy the Chitauri, that the Terran was not even an actual _warrior_ , I searched for you. And when I found you, you were dying by the hand of the leader of the 'team' credited with the salvation of your planet." She shrugged, not looking particularly bothered by the destruction of an entire army but then she had mentioned that it was a _faction_ of a _weaker_ army. Tony wasn't sure if that was reassuring, or just more terrifying.

Either way, this situation was getting less clear by the minute. Tony's initial thought was that they wanted him dead, but that didn't quite make sense given that Nebula had apparently saved him. Sure, maybe they were looking to torture him, but torturers usually didn't seem disgusted when talking about their marks' betrayal. And while she sure didn't look friendly, Nebula also didn't seem particularly inclined to harm him. Not that that gave Tony much comfort.

"So, what, you brought me here to kill me because I destroyed your dad's army? Why not just leave me to die in Siberia then? On...Terra, I think you called it?" Which probably wasn't the best thing to say if he wanted to stay alive, but Tony was honestly on the fence about staying alive, and above all he needed _answers_. None of it made sense, not really, and that was more frightening than death at this point. Nebula's eyebrow was raised again, looking unimpressed with his existence once more, and that really did serve as a terribly painful reminder of how Nat(not Nat anymore, Natasha now.) used to look at him whenever he started rambling at her. Ouch.

"I brought you here for my father to do with as he sees fit. I have yet to ask, but when we spoke earlier it did not sound as though he had plans to kill you. What he decides to do with you is up to him alone, and he will come speak to you soon enough." Nebula's voice was an even drawl, the entirety of her countenance speaking to her general disinterest in whatever fate Tony would face. Somehow, though, Tony felt like she didn't want him dead. Not that his judgement on that was particularly trustworthy(see: Avengers), but it brought him a small amount of comfort. Sort of. Just the same, his mind was already racing, trying to come up with some way to get back home. But did he really have a home to go back to?

His inner monologue was broken as Nebula cocked her head as though listening to something, then wordlessly turned and marched off without another word to Tony. Which suited him just fine, really, since it meant he could think without her beady eyes feeling as though they were seeing through him. With a heavy sigh, Tony closed his eyes and let his body relax as his mind took over. Whatever the hell was going on, he was sure that having a plan to get out of here was definitely a good thing. Of course, his mind didn't seem to agree with him because instead of focusing on tactics and plans, it kept returning to Rogers poised above him, shield raised with a trajectory that could well have ended in decapitation. The sense of gut-wrenching betrayal when Rogers admitted that _he had known_ and had _tried to lie about it_ , the rage, the horror as he realized that Rogers was damn well ready to kill him to prevent any injury to his precious _Bucky_.

God, things had gone to shit after Ultron, but this? The Accords, then Siberia? Tony shivered, wrapping his arms around his throbbing chest with an almost-whine, the tremors running through his body and the short-sharp breaths rasping through his lungs only magnifying the pangs stabbing through him. He had loved the other Avengers, trusted them with his life and every one of them had turned their backs on him _at best_. Most of them had gone the extra step to actively beat into his head that he wasn't one of them, could never have been one of them. He didn't belong. Tony Stark was a spoiled brat, an overgrown manchild, play boy, billionaire, philanthropist, and _nothing more_. It hurt, that they were so willing to live in his home, use his money, take his help in battle, use the _weapons_ that he made them despite the fact that he _didn't make weapons anymore_. As if he was just a convenient thing to be used and then tossed off into the trash. And really, it started with Ultron, didn't it?

That stupid protection program that he had fucked up, _like everything else he ever touched_ , that had tried to destroy the world. Tony had his doubts, honestly, because he was a genius, and AIs were his thing, and Wanda was clearly more than comfortable fucking with people's heads, but ultimately the blame was on him. Who else could it fall on? Bruce had left, and Maximoff was _just a kid_ , so it all fell on Tony. Like things always did. He took the blame, took the fall, paid the price both figuratively and literally and _for what_? To be left to die alone in the cold? To be abandoned by the man that he could never measure up to in the eyes of his father?

Or in the eyes of anyone, really, because Tony Stark was an asshole, was just a piece of shit while Captain America? The good Captain could do no wrong. Not even when he disregarded hundreds of lives in an effort to save his _friend_. His true friend. Because clearly any friendship between Tony and Rogers was just a figment of the genius' imagination. Why would the Captain sully himself with the likes of Tony Stark? He was stupid to think that he would.

Tony bit back the sob welling up in his chest, the hitch in breath agitating the bruising there even more. It hurt to breath, it hurt to think, hell it hurt to _exist_ right now. All he wanted was to rest. After all this, after everything, Tony just wanted to not feel pain anymore. So when unconsciousness came knocking again, he wrenched the door open and fell into its arms. Sure, he should be planning his grand escape. But he just needed rest. Just for a few minutes. Just a little while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> much to the surprise of someone who is not me, this got away from me. as per usual. y'all should probably get used to that. not that you'll probably ever know what my outlines say anyway. eh.
> 
> that said, thanks for reading! any comments are rad, as are kudos etc.
> 
> feel free to let me know if you want to see something specific in here, cuz i'm not averse to adding in bits and pieces for people. just know that the overarching plot is its own demon, and cannot be controlled. i'm already putting together _another_ fucking outline for another branching path jfc.
> 
> aaaanyway, i'll be back at some point in the next week with more. cheers, folks.


	3. Of Solitude and Instability

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An as-yet-to-be-specified time later.....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyyyy, long time no write. It turns out that, as happens every year, Black Friday(except it's on a fuckin' Thursday) season kicks off right after my birthday. Hnn. Here's to working double shifts while studying for exams.
> 
> Bitchery aside, I apologize for the wait on this chapter. Life has been doing as it does, AKA buttfucking me(and presumably 98% of the general population as well) around every corner. I've been working a ton of extra hours, studying for exams/finals, and my hand is being a shit. I'm dragging my hand in to a hand specialist(wtf) tomorrow(technically later today), so that's a thing. I'm just hoping it ain't Carpal Tunnel because fuuuuuuck that(EDIT: it totally was carpal tunnel).
> 
> Anyway. Here's the next chapter. Hopefully it isn't too disappointing after the wait. Thanks for stopping by, y'all. 'S pretty rad that there are actually people reading this lmao.
> 
> Ahhh, btw, mental breakdowns ahoy because this isn't gonna be fluffy for a while, if it ever is. (EDIT(again): idk man fluff may happen any time in this shit show, so. yeah. apologies for the (presumably) unintentional lie.
> 
> So yeh. Without further ado, another chapter in this godforsaken clusterfuck.

It was impossible to tell how much time had passed given that Tony was being kept in another sealed-off room. Muted metal walls, no windows, the door only appearing on the rare occasion that someone visited his cell. At least they had given him what he _hoped_ was a toilet, something that definitely _looked_ and worked like a sink, and a bed. He was still cuffed, sure, but the cuffs weren't actually attached to anything in any way that Tony could figure out. More likely than not they were set up like a shock collar back on Earth, benign unless he acted out in whichever way would trigger them. Not that he had tried.

Apparently being a genius left with absolutely no stimulation was not very good for the psyche. Or maybe it was? Tony wasn't sure anymore. He had been here for he didn't even know how long, and hadn't actually been spoken to since Nebula escorted him to his new cell. At least she had been honest in calling it a cell, though what honesty counted for Tony really didn't know. After all, if he couldn't expect it from his _"family"_....And that was the problem right there. So much time with nothing to do, nothing to see, no one to talk to, that all left him to his thoughts. And those thoughts? They weren't fucking pretty.

It was Sokovia, Johannesburg, Siberia, the _Avengers_ , everything that had been driving him to work, to better himself and everything around him. Thoughts that had been shoved to the back of his mind, labeled to be avoided at all costs, they were the only things on his mind. Sure, for a while he had been focused on escaping, on getting back home to Rhodey, Pepper and Happy, Vision, F.R.I.D.A.Y....But every time he thought the word _home_ the tower and compound flashed in front of his eyes.

Bruce -Banner- joining him in the lab, the two of them snarking at each other as they made monumental breakthroughs almost daily, the fact that Banner _left him alone_ to deal with the fallout of Ultron.

Natasha -Romanov(was it even Romanov?)- chiding him for overworking himself with a fond tone, the cold look in Romanov's eyes as she told him that she was going after the _Captain_.

Clint -Barton- sat down on the couch with him to plan out pranks to play on the others, the blatant hatred painting every line of his body, his face, as he berated Tony for striving for the same accountability that they always demanded for Tony.

Thor -....alien demi-god?- enveloping him in a post-battle victory-hug with exclamations of joy even as he moved to gather everyone else in for the celebratory embrace, the _rage_ that Tony felt as the demi-god gripped his neck and cut off his breathing.

Steve - _Rogers_ \- bumping his hip against Tony as the two watched the others squabble over which movie they should watch this time. The affectionate glances when Tony dragged himself out of the workshop after a long couple of days' work. Quiet, intense reflection, sharing their demons with each other and taking comfort in having someone to trust, to talk to....Rogers, inviting the witch into _Tony's_ home because she was just a child who _Tony_ had _orphaned_. Rogers undermining Tony's input with mentions of Ultron any time the two disagreed. Rogers knelt over him with the shield his father made raised to strike, aimed for Tony's unprotected throat. Rogers shouting, "He's my _friend_ " while Tony's heart is breaking once more. Rogers _lying about knowing_ , lying about _Tony's parents death_. Rogers, walking away without a backward glance, his arm around his _friend_ as Tony lay on the cold ground, bleeding out metaphorically and literally at the same time.

So, really, what home was there to go to?

Sure, there was Rhodey. Rhodey who had stuck with Tony through thick and thin, who had been the brother Tony had never had. Rhodey who _would never walk again_ thanks to Tony.

And yeah, there was Pepper. Pepper, who put up with so much shit from Tony, who was like a sister and mother at the same time, who stuck around even when they called an end to their relationship. Pepper, who had almost died three times _minimum_ because of Tony, who had almost lost her _husband_ because of Tony.

Really, Vision and F.R.I.D.A.Y. wouldn't even miss him. They were young, practically babies, they didn't need Tony to ruin their lives too. And Peter had his aunt, had Rhodey and Pepper and Happy looking out for him.

Thoughts of a triumphant return home were not long-lived. Everything was the pain of being betrayed, the heavy feeling of the entire world relying on him and scorning him at the same time. And while Tony knew, _knew_ , that he deserved all the vitriol he got, somewhere along the line he started feeling bitter. Feeling angry. He was never going back anyway, he was sure of that much, and the thought only soured his emotions towards his "home" further. There was a part of him that longed to _hurt_ everyone the way they had hurt him. That wanted the entire world to bleed the way he had bled for the world. Because he was just the scapegoat, always the scapegoat, just a fuckup, a slut, an asshole, someone with a wallet big enough to clean up everyone else's messes, not a person. Not a living sentient being who had emotions and feelings.

He always managed to miss who-or-what-ever brought him food and water, and at this point Tony was pretty sure that was a smart move because he was always angry now, wanted to _fight_ the next person he saw in a visceral, physical way that he never had before. In his more sedate moments, Tony wondered if maybe that was what his captors wanted from him, since they hadn't bothered to tell him why the hell they wanted him in the first place, but those moments were growing fewer and farther inbetween with each breath that Tony took, each minute where he lost track of the secondsminuteshoursdays(weeks?) that he had been in this place. 

A hoarse, rusty sound jolted him out of his reverie. His own laugh, vocal chords shredded from screaming for the first few hours after he was moved to his new dwelling, before he lost count of the time. He hadn't spoken a word since he stopped screaming, hadn't seen anyone to speak to and hated to hear his own voice. But that was him, making that noise, a bubbling of toomanyemotions escaping him in a broken parody of a laugh. It really was sort of hilarious, because the world was finally free of Tony Stark, and he was free of the world, no ties to keep him there. Sure, he would die in his cell alone here, but at least he was _free_ of it all.

His voice raised, body shaking violently as his laughter grew more maniacal, tears welling up in wild hazel eyes born both from glee and desolation. He was trapped, but he was _**free**_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am drunk and my hand hurts like a cunt.
> 
> i'm going the fuck to bed.
> 
> night, folks.


	4. Of Appreciation and Attraction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Thanos had sent Nebula to fetch the Terran responsible for the destruction of the Chitauri that had been lent to Loki, he was not sure what to expect of the most successful defender any of his armies had faced. Certainly he hadn't expected the sharp, terror-struck, damaged little thing Nebula had returned with.  
> .......  
> While Thanos' original intentions of breaking the man, reshaping him into his first son(and he would make sure that his first son was more loyal than his first daughter. Clearly he had done better with Nebula than with Gamora.), learning about Stark had made it clear that, tactically speaking, he would be a fool to merely train him as a warrior the way he did his daughters. For the first time in a long time, the Titan felt something within himself stir. No, this little thing would be no son of his. Tony could, should, /would/ be so much more than that.
> 
> (Or: the Author finally returns, and implications begin to be made. ehehehe.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have a presentation due for finals tomorrow and i still have to finish it. so naturally i'm writing a new chapter while Forensic Files plays in the background instead of doing that. it's called succeeding at adulthood, bitches.  
> ~  
> that aside, since i deleted the a/n chapter thingy, i do want to emphasize here how damn encouraging every kudos is. and comments? shit, my dude, i legit got emotional to the point of almost crying when a certain individual went through and COMMENTED ON EVERY CHAPTER HNGH. that's i think the sweetest fucking thing a stranger on the internet has ever done for me. which is not to say that i don't appreciate all comments left, because i do beyond words. you people make my day. *sends interwebz hugs*  
> ~  
> uhm. let's see, what else? i haven't seen infinity wars, but i have been given a synopsis. so i don't mind spoilers. that being said, other people might not want to see spoilers in the comments? idk. i guess if it becomes an issue i'll adress it, but for now i'm gonna say spoilers in the comments are fine.
> 
> there won't be any spoilers in the actual fic, because fuck canon. 
> 
> so yeah. here ya go~. hope y'all enjoy.  
> !!!!!!!!!!  
> oh shit. ALSO. I updated the tags(again), because I realized i somehow left some shit out. please please please made sure to read through them again.
> 
> kay i'll leave you to your reading now.

When Thanos had sent Nebula to fetch the Terran responsible for the destruction of the Chitauri that had been lent to Loki, he was not sure what to expect of the most successful defender any of his armies had faced. Certainly he hadn't expected the sharp, terror-struck, damaged little thing Nebula had returned with. And while the Titan was not exceedingly familiar with Terrans and their physiology, he did know that, for a male of his age, this defender of Terra was small. Not overly strong, the video feed from his cell proved that, and broken both in physical and emotional capacity.

It was, in a way, somewhat of a disappointment. Thanos had been anticipating vicious pride, someone conceited and arrogant, with the physical build and power to lend credence to their confidence. The sort of individual whom he would take great pleasure in destroying before re-molding them to his preferences. Given what he had seen so far, the Titan found it likely that the Terran had already been destroyed at least to some extent, if by different measures than he himself would have employed. Additionally, the man's personality was far from what he had anticipated, as was his physique. While he did not appear particularly unfit at first glance, the Terran certainly didn't have the physiology most often attributed with warriors of any type across the galaxies.

When Nebula had come before her father and described what she had seen and heard on that pathetic excuse for a planet, he had initially wondered if she might be lying to him. The idea of a mere mortal -not a warrior by training or trade, but one who engaged in a desperate attempt at salvation with no other options- defeating even the weakest of the Titan's armies was not particularly convincing. Furthermore, his daughter had gone on to suggest that this man -Tony Stark was what she said he was called- was considered a consultant of the force that had risen against his army, despite having single-handedly having saved his planet. It was almost beyond belief, especially after Nebula had described what she had seen upon finding Stark.

But Thanos had shown no signs of doubt, not willing to condemn his daughter without knowing for certain whether or not she was being deceitful. He had not praised her either, but he had never given praise before checking the work of his daughter. At least, not since Gamora's betrayal. While Nebula was still unhappy with his wariness, she appeared to understand it and accept it with grace. Perhaps he did still have one daughter. Which made it a pleasant surprise when everything he had seen on the surveillance on Stark's cell supported his daughter's claims.

Apparently, the armor -he had known that there must be some armor involved, given the name he had been provided with for the man initially- was more advanced than Thanos had thought. Further information from Nebula, also supported by video recording of the cell, suggested that Stark was actually not even as physically healthy as the average Terran. More than a few of Nebula's sources had claimed doubt over the man's health, although an astounding amount of them were critical rather than concerned she had told him. Her expression of irritation as she told him this was unexpected, seeming almost defensive over the treatment of one of a species that she was quite disdainful of. Nebula had grimaced at her own tone and reaction, then stated how irritatingly illogical it was to mistreat one who had saved the planet. Perhaps he would question her on it later, but he had let it be at the time, more interested in why Stark had, apparently, continued to seemingly ignore his own well-being for the sake of the planet that was so eager to belittle him.

Even without Nebula's information from her reconnaissance on Terra, the scans taken of Stark in the medical ward before he had woken and been taken to his cell would have left most anyone of any species suspicious of his health. The proportioning of his lungs was not practical for a lifeform of Stark's size, weight, and age. There had been scarring visible on his chest both externally and internally, and the space around the lungs and his heart was misformed, not typical of any life form Thanos had seen or heard of. It was highly unlikely that evolution, even of such a primitive species, would have allowed for such inefficient allocation of space within the Terran body. The metal casing that laid just beneath his skin and muscle also seemed unlikely to be natural given the scarring surrounding it. Not to mention that said casing had to be re-attached to the surrounding biological material, and the reports given to Thanos by the medical ward personnel had commented that it was fairly obvious that the piece had been added relatively recently, given the stage of healing of the surrounding tissue.

Altogether, if this had been the only information available to Thanos regarding the Iron Man, he would have assumed that the man was little more than a sacrifice who happened to get lucky in succeeding to fend off the army that had been led by Loki. But it was far from the only knowledge that Thanos had now, and the Titan was admittedly impressed by the profile Nebula had put together on the man. He was shockingly intelligent even compared to most races Thanos had met(certainly compared to Asgard, he thought), nevermind his own species. It was obvious that he had not survived all his perils by luck alone, but through a determination, cleverness, and tenacity that far exceeded what even most war-leaders possessed, and Stark was repeatedly emphasized by several sources as a "civilian, a non-combatant" Nebula had said.

Ultimately, that was why the disappointment had been minor. While Thanos' original intentions had been to break the man, reshaping him into his first son(and he would make sure that his first son was more loyal than his first daughter. Clearly he had done better with Nebula than with Gamora.), learning about Stark had made it clear that, tactically speaking, he would be a fool to merely train him as a warrior the way he did his daughters(And yes, Gamora was still his daughter. He loved her even through the burn of betrayal, although he was far from stupid enough to believe her redeemable.). It was more than obvious that Stark -no, not Stark, Tony. Stark implied that he belonged to his father's lineage, to the planet that had scorned him so- his Tony was more suited to creativity than violence, intelligence to strength. 

Thanos would groom his little Terran, that clever little mortal with the sharp intelligence in his eyes and the ability to create life with nothing but scraps and his own mind. The Titan would take that loyalty, so adamantly directed towards a planet so very undeserving, redirect it so that he had naught but memories of his feelings for his former home. Pretty little Tony would be given freedom as he had never known it from his place by Thanos' side, no thoughts or feelings spared aside from his master. Well, and Nebula. His daughter had done well, more than made her father proud. The Titan would ensure that Tony respected his daughter the way she deserved, although there was no reason to think he wouldn't anyway once he was no longer so distracted by the disease that was the rest of his species. His Tony would get along well with his daughter once he was free of Terra's grip on his mind, and Nebula? No doubt she would be pleased, given the history with Gamora, that she would not be fighting for Thanos' affections against a new sibling.

No, instead she would be receiving another parent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .....idfk man, it was weird af getting into the headspace to write this, and i'm not sure i managed it? 
> 
> in my head, thanos is not a moron of any sort. he is a legitimate threat to the universe(OR IS HE???????), and he sure as fuck didn't just stumble upon that status by accident. motherfucker has to at least have some ability to strategize and shit. which in and of itself would not necessarily be too much of an issue for me(I like to think i'm at least relatively intelligent lmao), but the other requirement(imo) of being in such a position of power, and having been able to get there, is that he is an inherently dominating/controlling being. 
> 
> as i myself am an inherently subby little bitch, it's different for me to try to portray a more dominant mindset or personality. additionally, there's a lot less of Thanos(possibly because i haven't seen much of him but shhhh) that i can relate to/sympathize with in comparison to Tony. not that i've ever been a billionaire, superhero, weapons manufacturer, genius, or a man(i am undeniably female, even if i do have small tits), but the betrayal hits home, the aftermath, the paranoia and shit that goes with that. orrrr i may just be projecting, who knows. i'm not very good with the squishy shit like psychology.
> 
> that being said, i hope this chapter was enjoyable. if a bit disturbing lmao. but hey, if you weren't expecting disturbing after seeing the pairing and reading the tags, idk what's wrong with you. i ain't being subtle about how weird shit's gonna get.
> 
> so yeh. i'll se y'all on the flip side, i'm gonna finally go thru and respond to comments now ;u;
> 
> (completely unrelated and irrelevant to everything, i have nickednamed this ship "IronTit" in both my head and the files on my computer. so that's a thing. sort of like trivia facts, you had no real need to know that, and yet now you do.)
> 
> (also irrelevant, i wrote this while in the bathtub. it took some serious creativity to manage to keep my computer dry, but i wanted a bath and i wanted to update. you're welcome.)


	5. Of Trauma and the Partial Disection of Emotions (kind of)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In some small part of his mind, Tony knew that a lot of his thoughts and emotions were far from rational at this point. Isolation was a bitch like that. But that didn't change the fact that those thoughts and emotions existed, and frankly Tony was not about to try manipulate his own emotions now. He figured he could worry about it after he no longer felt like a semi-truck had run over his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI HELLO I'M STILL NOT DEAD. and it didn't even take me half a year to update this time lmao.
> 
> so yeah, basically i had two ideas in mind for what to post next, and ultimately i chose to post the longer chapter first bcuz reasons. that being said, i'm HOPING to post the shorter chapter, which brings us back to earth for a brief interlude, by the end of tomorrow. #probablyapipedream
> 
> in other (irrelevant to you guyz but i'm FUCKING EXCITED so you get to hear about it anyway) news, i had aptitude testing and a first interview for my first Actual Real Adult Job That is in My Career Field on thursday, and i've got a second interview monday. cross your fingers for me, y'all, cuz this job is BASICALLY A DREAM COME TRU like the company will help pay for my schooling and shit bcuz they need more engineers and OH HEY THAT'S MY MAJOR
> 
> now that i've yowled about that, back to story-related...stuff. or whatever. OH WAIT SHIT I KEPT GOING ON ABOUT FINALS i guess i should probably tell y'all that i aced all of them, and got a 3.7 gpa this semester. which is pretty fuckin lit.
> 
> NOW back to story stuff. not that i've got much to say? at least not til the endnotes because spoilers. eh. uhhhhhm. i don't think there's anything i need to add to the tags or warnings, this chapter is gonna be relatively mild??? i guess there's gonna be discussion of medical conditions/procedures and shit, because i never fully addressed that shit becuz i am an absolute ditz sometimes.
> 
> also, as a sidenote, in chapter 3 i said that this wasn't going to be fluffy for a while it it ever even got fluffy. that was a lie. this story is a fuckin monster and it does what it wants so fluff will happen whenever the fuck it feels like it. rip bianca, she lied in an author's note written 6 months and 3 days ago. what a bitch.
> 
> i think that's it for now? i'll have more to say in the endnotes becuz ~chapter spoilers~.
> 
> hope y'all enjoy!
> 
> (p.s. i moved from north carolina to minnesota when i was 16 and i still say y'all and i get so much shit for it like wtf happened to "minnesota nice" obviously it's a lie.)

See, the thing about having had as much chest trauma as Tony had is that he could very well recognize from the pain and extent of it that he was dying. Well, dying at a faster rate than the average human being given that everyone starts dying from the moment they come to life in the first place. What he couldn't recognize, however, was what the exact cause was, and at what rate exactly he was dying. An unfortunate side effect of being held captive by aliens for reasons yet to be determined.

With no access to any sort of equipment(or really anything at all for that matter), all Tony really knew about his own condition was that it was deteriorating slowly. According to Nebula, who had recently begun visiting him on a presumably daily basis, the engineer had been on the ship for about the equivalent of three weeks on earth. Since then, breathing had become more and more difficult, the difference not noticeable day-to-day but obvious when comparing the beginning of his time on the ship to more recent days. 

His initial decision had been to just let it happen, which in theory would prevent the aliens from having all that long to torture whatever they wanted out of him. But he had to reevaluate that stance after the first two weeks, given that a grand total of zero torture had happened. Well, unless you counted leaving a genius with a hyperactive mind mostly alone with no physical or mental stimulation, but that was really just a safety measure when kidnapping Tony Stark. If nothing else, he knew Nebula at least had done some research on him, so he really didn't fault the caution. So, no torture two weeks in had gotten Tony to thinking, and one week after that he had finally given in and mentioned it to Nebula during her daily visit. 

It was a risk, sure, but not much of one in his opinion. While Nebula had not been warm with him, she had gotten increasingly less cold and removed as time and brief words passed. In fact, rather than brief words she held full conversations with Tony now, and despite his wariness it still made him more comfortable with her. Granted, somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that it was likely that the lack of contact with any other lifeforms of any sort was responsible for his relative trust, but rationality was escaping Tony faster and faster each day. Really, it could not possibly be overstated just how much the lack of stimulation affected any mind, much less one as demanding as Tony's. Regardless, he had broken down and told Nebula, who had seemed not _quite_ sympathetic or concerned, but not as unbothered as Tony would have expected or as she would have been a few weeks prior. He was surprised, to an extent, but not nearly as surprised as he thought he ought to be. More evidence of his sanity's retreat, Tony supposed.

So he had spoken to Nebula, explained the issues with his chest -which the blue alien had said explained a lot about the scans they had apparently taken of him while he was unconscious- and how serious they were becoming, and rather than mock or scorn or ignore him, Nebula had frowned. Besides the frown, her only reaction had been to tell Tony that she was going to speak to Thanos to see what could be done. Which, Tony supposed, made sense because it was doubtful that wherever they were was particularly outfitted for advanced medical procedures relating to humans. At most, they would have the equipment but little to no knowledge of human biology. Unless somehow humans were more common in space than anyone on earth thought, but that was an entirely different can of worms that Tony frankly did not want to open.

Another side effect of his seclusion, actually, he had developed somewhat of an aversion to the thought of interacting with his own damn species at some point. Specific individuals; Rhodey, Pepper, Happy, and Peter, he misses them, but the war in Tony's brain was currently in favor of sparing them from himself and his fuckups, so he wants to see them but he doesn't because they deserve better than a washed-up asshole who can't do things right. Not that it mattered anyway, since he was currently stranded in space with no way to get back to earth and decreasing motivation to even think about it. Point is, other than a few select people Tony is _angry_. Having had so much time to think about everything that had happened throughout his life, Tony was starting to actively _hate_ humanity and their treatment of him. It was a sort of paradox, given that he felt that for the most part any hatred for him was justified, but he'd never claimed to be a psychologist and emotions were his least favorite thing to try to understand.

Somewhere in the midst of his latest mental tirade, Nebula had come back, expression closed off in a way it hadn't been for a while. Immediately alarm bells went off in Tony's head, and he kept his own face carefully blank as he waited for the verdict. Sure, it wasn't paradise in his little cell with nothing to do but talk to himself when Nebula wasn't there, but it was honestly the longest period of least stressful time since....fuck, he didn't even know when really. So of course he had to fuck it up. Given Nebula's expression, or lack thereof, Tony assumed that the other shoe was about to drop and he hated himself just a little bit more for destroying what good there was in the situation.

Apparently he wasn't as good at schooling whatever it was that Nebula used to read him, though, because she rolled her eyes in that condescending _humans are dumb as shit_ way of hers that was far closer to something like affection than it had been in the beginning. After the eyeroll completed, she huffed briefly, then announced, "Hopefully your inferior Terran physiology can afford one more night. Thanos is occupied at the moment, but he wished for me to tell you that he will come speak with you tomorrow morning regarding what can be done about your health."

Well. That was both mildly terrifying and comforting at the same time. At least this Thanos guy seemed to want him alive and potentially even well. Or maybe Nebula just talked him into it, but Tony didn't really care about the semantics. Chitauri invasion or not, Tony was being shown more kindness than he had come to expect from his own people, not to mention the people _living in his home, using his money, eating his food_ , and he was finding it progressively more difficult to quash the burgeoning inclination towards his alien captors. Hell, he wasn't even sure he could really call them captors. They had saved his life, were feeding him well, and apparently were willing to save his life again albeit in a more preventative manner.

Obviously that was all Nebula had to say, since she nodded once, sharply, at him before turning to leave once more. Fair, Tony figured, they had already had their daily chat or whatever, and it was pretty clear that being "the Daughter of the Titan Thanos" kept her busy. She paused momentarily at the door, tilting her head ever so slightly to the side as if debating something internally, before turning just enough to face him.

"Oh, and Stark? My father wishes for me to let you know that we will do everything we can to heal you. And that he has been waiting to meet you, and is very much looking forward to finally have you stand before him."

Shitfuck, that did _not_ sound good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM V INSECURE ABOUT TONY'S MENTAL PROGRESSION
> 
> that being said, i have excuses to rationalize it and i am claiming artistic license or w/e so you can fuckin fight me (plz don't actually fight me i'm 5'4 and weigh ~120 lbs so it wouldn't end well for me)
> 
> originally this chapter was SUPPOSED to be Thanos and Tony meeting, but. this happened instead. w/e i give up on having intentions for chapters in this story. it's clearly just gonna do wetf it wants. meh.
> 
> so. yeah.


	6. Of Brief Interludes and Heated Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meanwhile, back on Earth..........

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wellp. i got that job! so i've been busy training and finishing out my notice at the former job.
> 
> -insert more excuses here-
> 
> tbh this chapter kicked my ass multiple times???? so it's shorter than what i wanted, but i've rewritten it so many times i'm just done lmao.
> 
> i did some work on the tags, so now they'll only reflect characters as they appear in the story. also i'm not tagging the less centric characters because idk fucking fight me.
> 
> no new warnings, at least not that i'm aware of.
> 
> MCU's canon on Tony's birthday does not fit my purposes for this story, so for the record i'm running with the idea that he was born May 29th, 1974 instead of 1970. so the year he graduated MIT is the same year his parents died, and he was still a minor so Stane was his guardian and had legal reason to be in control of the company and shit. not super relevant, but it may come up at some point.
> 
> i think that's it?
> 
> carry on.

Most veterans would tell you that thirty years serving in any branch of the US Armed Forces would give you a hell of a lot of discipline. While this was true, at least to a point, what few mentioned was that when that discipline reached its limit, when anyone who had been enlisted that long was pushed too far, the resulting backlash could be disastrous. Especially if that person had not only served thirty years, but had climbed through the ranks via blood, sweat, and tears, had earned their position as highest ranking field officer.

So when, after providing explanations including footage and Friday's frantic records, Pepper had asked Colonel James Rhodes if he would like to join Happy and herself in confronting King T'Challa, Rhodes was _more_ than willing to sit in on the call and take his own shots at the king. His best friend for nearly the entirety of his aforementioned military career had been beaten, bruised, broken, and left to die before being abducted by something that had to be alien. While T'Challa himself may not have caused the damage, he _had_ left Tony there, had taken in the very man he had wanted to kill mere hours prior and the conceited _monster_ who dared preach righteousness when the only thing he had truly been interested in protecting was one single person. Rage burned hot in Rhodes' chest every time he though about it, about Rogers' _real_ reason for opposing the Accords, for causing so much loss and destruction. 

Rogers had said Barnes was family, that he had to protect him, but the nobility was lost when one looked at the reality of the situation. Several innocent people had lost family thanks to the stubborn group's rampage, and Rhodes himself had lost Tony. Which rankled him even further, because Rhodes would never let Tony go without a fight, but he had never and _would_ never put innocent people in risk of harm for Tony. The fact that Rogers felt he was so entitled to burn the world for Bucky sickened Rhodes, especially given that the man still claimed to be a "Captain" by way of the US Army. Obviously the man only gave a damn about "This We'll Defend" when the "This" in question was James Buchanan Barnes.

But part of the point of contacting T'Challa(Rhodes would not refer to the man by anything other than his name, respect be damned. Rhodes had damn well earned his respect with his service to the Air Force and on behalf of the UN. T'challa, on the other hand, had essentially spit in their faces. Any respect his country had for him was a moot point on the global scale) was that he was the one housing the Rogue Avengers, and between Pepper, Rhodes, and Happy(who was the epitome of the antonym of his moniker in this situation) they would make sure that they were able to speak with Rogers and his little group of moronic blind followers.

Back when SHIELD fell, Romanov had stated, "You need us. Yes, the world is a vulnerable place, and yes we help make it that way, but we're also the ones best qualified to defend it. So if you want to arrest me, arrest me. You'll know where to find me." Unfortunately for her, since the "Civil War" one month ago, Pepper had been busy getting into contact with several people Tony had scouted, thanks to Friday's help, and the New Avengers were shaping up much better than the former ones had. Captain Marvel, Doctor Strange, a few who had moved over from the X-Men, Daredevil, Jessica Jones, Luke Cage, She-Hulk, and those were just a few of those who had joined up. Captain Marvel, who had actually earned her title in the military as a Colonel a few years back, was an exemplary field leader while Rhodes himself worked both alone and with her on strategizing and training plans. So, no. The world did _not_ need a group of washed-up, arrogant, self-righteous assholes running around doing as they pleased. The world already had a team of skilled, highly-trained individuals who were willing to protect it while still respecting the law and by extension people's wishes.

Not to mention that, unlike the former freeloaders, the New Avengers refused to live off of Stark Industries' dime. The compound still existed, and there were rooms there for overnight stays, but they were only ever used for a few nights at a time when there was training going on. Being an Avenger was not a full-time sort of gig, and outside of Rhodes and Danvers, who were more or less running the operation with occasional assistance from Pepper, Doctor Strange, and Professor Xavier, all of them had jobs. Rhodes and Danvers had permanent rooms at the compound, and there were rooms for more officers as time progressed, but the compound itself was now funded by the UN via the Accords Council. It was very much like the military life for Rhodes and Danvers, and neither of them particularly minded that. They didn't need luxury, not after having serving as long as they had.

Point being, when Tony's three closest friends made the call to speak to T'Challa, they were more than prepared to be sure that from hereon out, things would go their way, with no innocent casualties.

If it weren't for the situation, Rhodes would feel bad for the king. T'Challa had _no idea_ what he was about to be faced with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was going to write the actual confrontation but i just....idk?????? writing is hard k.
> 
> but yeh. for the record, i'm largely neutral towards T'challa. he may or may not end up redeeming himself in terms of this fic. but for now, he suits my purposes by being portrayed negatively by Tony's Gang.
> 
> idk i don't have much else to say? i had to do a shitton of research on military structure that naturally went more in depth than it needed to be because that's just how i research apparently. feel free to yell at me if i got anything wrong. on a related note, i know next to nothing about the US military mostly because i'm not super thrilled about various aspects of it. i'm not anti-military, but i'm definitely not pro-military.
> 
> yeah. so. next chapter should _in theory_ be The Meeting(tm). idk when i'll get it written and posted, but i'm planning to bring my laptop to work now that a have a locker there, so i'll probably just write during my lunches and shit. but i aint making promises because that never turns out well lmao.
> 
> cheers,  
> This Bitch


	7. Of Crushed Hopes and Writer's Block

So. It's been a while, my dudes. And unfortunately it's looking like it might be a while longer yet. 

I've actually had a ton of free time, or at least more than I expected, but I've been having serious trouble writing what I want. I have this huge plot in mind for this story, but I can't seem to get over everything that comes before said plot. It's been driving me insane, and I've felt terrible because I was really looking forward to sharing it. 

That being said, I'm not giving up just yet. What I _am_ doing is taking a break for a bit. I think a big part of the problem is that I've been on a huge StrangeIron kick, and have several ideas for oneshots for that particular ship. So my current plan is to try and write some of those, unclog my brain a little and get the juices flowing, so to speak. 

Anyway, I'm sorry to do this to you guys, but...Tbh not that sorry because theoretically getting over the block I've had going will ensure better content??? Idk. 

Thanks for all the love and support you've been giving me, I hope I can give you some content here soon. 

Until then,  
Fawksy

**Author's Note:**

> idfk what i'm doing but here ya go. i'll probs post the next chapter in the next couple days here. uhm. also if there are other tags that should be added feel free to let me know. as i said before, feel free to leave any sort of comment. what else....ah. next chapter is gonna be either thanos or tony's pov. yup. think that's it. ttyl bitches.


End file.
